


When The Fairy Dust Fell Over Us

by Creme13rulee



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Blood, Character's Name Spelled as Viktor, Eventual Happy Ending, Injury, M/M, Major Character Injury, Mentions of Cancer
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-20
Updated: 2019-01-20
Packaged: 2019-10-13 02:37:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,290
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17479625
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Creme13rulee/pseuds/Creme13rulee
Summary: Yuuri makes a fatal mistake during the champion exhibition skate at Worlds.Title and excerpt from  I found Love by Owl CityPromo for Namida, the Yuri On Ice Angst zine.Yoiangstzine.tumblr.com and @yoiangstzine on tumblrOpen acceptance, charity zine benefiting The Trevor Project. Applications open through January 31stArt by @Impatvish





	When The Fairy Dust Fell Over Us

**Author's Note:**

> Promo for Namida, the Yuri On Ice Angst zine.  
> Yoiangstzine.tumblr.com and @yoiangstzine on tumblr
> 
> Open acceptance, charity zine benefiting The Trevor Project. Applications open through January 31st
> 
>  
> 
> Art by @impatvish <3

__  
I was so young and reckless  
It was all a blur but there you were  
And your love left me breathless 

 

It was so stupid. Not just the foolish mistake of nearly colliding with another skater. But hiding the inevitable secret from Viktor for so long.

It hadn’t been out of malice. Yuuri hadn’t even been sure that he could even keep it a secret for long. Even practicing in Russia, Viktor was still his coach. Yuuri didn’t so much as sneeze without Viktor knowing.

But the doctor had respected his awkward, stilted request not to tell him.

It had worked, but now he was on an international stage. The world watched as blood poured from Yuuri's nostrils, pooling on the ice. It was too much. Too much to handle, too much blood dripping from his nostrils. He had only smacked into the boards. Viktor hadn’t even moved from his spot, but he still arrived before the medic team did. Once they realized that Yuuri wasn’t getting up.  
Yuuri’s fingers curled into fists, anger welling along with tears. There would be no more hiding it anymore. No more blissful ignorance. Worse, Viktor would be mad. He would feel betrayed not only by his fiance, but the entire team at the sports complex. By the doctor.

Yuuri had promised: two weeks before treatment. It had been three, but they were in the midst of the skating season. He had to finish earning his gold medals, and Viktor’s hand in marriage, before everything was torn away from him.  
Viktor collided with Yuuri, pulling him off the ice and into his chest. He paid no mind to the blood smearing his team jacket. Lights flashed behind Yuuri’s eyes, the world spinning. He was woozy, and it had been seconds. Maybe a minute at most. 

It didn’t matter. Yuuri felt the sob grow in Viktor’s chest as he went limp as a rag doll. It was a shame that Viktor was ruining his clothing. Yuuri’s costume was simple, all black with silver feather-like curls. Blood would make no difference. Viktor’s jacket was hopeless-- he hugged Yuuri closer, even though his bad knee was grinding into the ice beneath them.

“Somethings wrong, isn’t it Yuuri? This isn’t normal. You’re not okay,” Viktor’s voice broke. Words didn’t reach Yuuri’s lips-- they were stirred into the mess of color and light behind his eyes, dying before they could really live. He could smile, even he wasn’t completely aware of it. He just felt how warm Viktor was, warm and soft, his accent thicker than ever. He sounded like a first year student.

The last time he had heard Viktor like this, Makkachin was in emergency surgery in Hasetsu.

The shock taking over Yuuri’s body made it hard to respond. Viktor refused to step away-- holding Yuuri up, moving around him when the medics requested room to take his pulse. Gauze was pressed to his nose before taking the familiar shape of Viktor’s hand.

Viktor was the one to carry him off the ice, though Yuuri had a hard time remembering when or how. His mind did not return to him until his eyes opened to a grey ceiling and the thick astringent smell of a hospital ward. Tubes snaked in and out of his arms, and his fingers were heavy with oximeter and other medical equipment.

Viktor dozed, sitting upright in a chair pulled close to the bed.  
Yuuri’s face throbbed with pain, his knees burning with the quiet ache of three days of competition. Hot tears threatened to spill over his cheeks again. Viktor was still wearing his costume and his jacket, the front stained a rusty red. Yuuri’s costume had disappeared, replaced by thin cotton hospital robes. The blanket Viktor always packed on trips was tucked around Yuuri on top of the hospital sheets. It was their last trip where they could be carefree and completely happy.

Viktor stirred, his hand tightening around Yuuri’s free hand, the crease between his eyebrows deepening before he could fully awaken and smooth it over with a mask.

“Yuuri,” Viktor sighed, reaching to wipe away the tears that were running down his cheeks and into the pillow.

“Do you know?” Yuuri was suddenly aware of how dry his mouth felt, his tongue thick and heavy in his mouth.

“It’s on your national health record, starlight.” Viktor swallowed, his adam's apple bobbing beautifully. Viktor was gorgeous smiling, crying and angry. “I called Falin to make sure. I nearly had his throat, you know.” He threaded his fingers through Yuuri’s hair, along the curve of his ear.

“I’m sorry,” The tears came faster. Yuuri blinked as much as he could, if only to watch Viktor’s face.

“For not telling me? I’m not mad. I was. But I had time to think about it. I’m not surprised. It was my fault for leaving the physical for so long, and exactly for you to ignore something so close to competition.

“I was scared you’d pull me from competition,” Yuuri let his eyes flutter closed. It would be hard to be honest and look Viktor in the eye when tears came so easily.

“I would have,” Viktor nearly snapped, his hand tightening around Yuuri’s. “Yuuri… its cancer. It’s not something you can ignore.”

“I had to…” Yuuri felt his cheeks grow warm with embarrassment.

“Yuuri, you break my heart, do you know that?” Viktor’s voice shook. “Nothing is worth endangering your life like this.”

“I need the last gold medal,” Yuuri whimpered. He longed to hide his face, but the weight of medical equipment was too much and too clumsy. Pulling his hand out of Viktor’s grasp would be a bad idea.

“Tch. What gold medal is worth your life?” Viktor bit out. “I really hate your focusing on everything. I really do.” His voice grew quieter. Softer.

“I need five,” Yuuri bit his bottom lip. It still tasted vaguely of copper--of blood.

Viktor’s face faded from anger to confusion. “Five?”

“To marry you,” Yuuri can feel his ears burn with the fire of embarrassment.

“Yuuri!” Viktor was too loud for the hospital room. Yuuri opened his eyes, immediately regretting it as he watched tears fall down Viktor’s perfect cheeks. “You stupid man! Thinking you’d need Gold to marry me. You already have all of me. I’d marry you today.”  
Before, it was obvious that Viktor did not know how the cry. He was a beautiful Adonis, perfectly sculpted, tears having no place on his smooth skin. But that Viktor had been burnished away, the Viktor before him raw and ugly, his jaw clenched and teeth bared under the deluge of tears. He pressed his lips to Yuuri’s knuckles, his eyelashes wet, his stage makeup streaked and tearstained.

“I’d marry you now,” He whispered into Yuuri’s skin. “Just to make you promise that I get you for life. For a long, beautiful, loving life. Please, Yuuri. Let me grow old with you.”

“I was stupid… and reckless--”

“Stop.” Viktor demands, filling Yuuri’s mouth with a kiss before another word can pass his lips. “Promise me.”

Yuuri’s mind nagged at him-- he couldn’t promise that. Not when his body had betrayed him already. When his grandmother had died of the same disease before even knowing Yuuri. But saying so was cruel. Viktor couldn’t promise it either. His namesake poodle was taken away before they even met. Every day he left for morning practice before Yuuri, he risked never returning.

No one was guaranteed a long life.

But there was nothing Yuuri wanted more. A thousand gold medals couldn’t replace a quiet morning pressed against Viktor. A hundred crowd’s roar couldn’t compare to Viktor’s smile when the last note rang over the ice.

“I promise.”


End file.
